Two feet protruded from under an older model sedan resting on blocks in the front yard. I drove into the yard to meet the family whose children attended a church event. As I exited my vehicle, a rifle barrel joined the feet on the ground nearby. A voice from underneath the car growled, “Who’s that?”
I lost my voice momentarily but eventually introduced myself as a pastor. I figured my name might not save me, but I hoped “pastor” might earn me a break.
Slowly the man slid out from under his work in progress and eyed me suspiciously. “Preacher, huh?” he grunted. “Ain’t nobody home but me. Know anything about cars?”
“Why?” I sputtered. “As long as you’re holding that rifle, I’ll tell you whatever you want to hear.”
“Never mind that,” he smiled. “Can’t afford no bullets.”
The man introduced himself as Frank. He turned out to be quite talkative. He stood and leaned against the disabled vehicle. I took the cue and leaned on mine.
“Preacher,” Frank said, “You probably want to see my family and not me. I’m not a very good person. In fact, the only thing I’m good at is fixin’ up old cars.”
“Really?” I responded. “Sounds like you and God have a lot in common.”
“Me and God?” Frank laughed.
“Yeah,” I insisted. “You like to fix broken cars. God likes to fix broken people. The Bible says, ‘If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new’” (2 Cor. 5:17).
I explained to Frank that people are not good because they make bad choices. That’s how folks get broken.
God, however, loves people so much that He found a way to fix them. He gave His Son, Jesus, to die on a cross to prove His love.
“Wait a minute, preacher,” Frank interrupted. “I know all about Jesus. Momma sent me to Bible school every summer.”
I told him that not only could he know “about” Jesus but he also could “know” Jesus personally. Later Frank confessed his sin and asked the Lord to forgive him. He committed to follow God’s purpose for his life.
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